


The Wolf & The Cat

by QueenOfRohirrim



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Angry Lambert (The Witcher), Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier will write a ballad about this for sure, Kaer Morhen, M/M, Marriage, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, Parent Vesemir (The Witcher), Protective Lambert (The Witcher), Separation Anxiety, Soft Lambert (The Witcher), Soft Vesemir (The Witcher), Step-parents, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher), Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:29:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26572228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfRohirrim/pseuds/QueenOfRohirrim
Summary: Vesemir has put aside his feelings for many years, and his lover has done the same.Now, in the later years of their lives, the old wolf and cat have decided to stop running from destiny.Lambert has some problems with this new development within the pack.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Coën/Eskel (The Witcher), Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert & Vesemir, Eskel & Vesemir (The Witcher), Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Vesemir, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Vesemir, Lambert & Vesemir (The Witcher), Vesemir/Guxart
Comments: 11
Kudos: 84





	1. Homecoming & The Council of Elders

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Lamb Lamb doesn’t want his Papa to leave them.
> 
> Of course Vesemir never would, but that’s mostly what Lambert is worried about.

Jaskier was surprised to arrive back to Kaer Morhen to find that the wolves already had guests awaiting them.

Geralt seemed worried at first, noticing the extra horses in the stables and the unfamiliar scents surrounding the keep, but one look from Eskel and he nodded, giving a satisfied grunt.

“Oh fuck!” Lambert growled in annoyance. “I forgot the old man would have people here...”

“What?” Jaskier looked from Lambert to Geralt as his wolf was busying himself with a bucket of oats for Roach. “What’s going on? Whose here? Why don’t you three ever tell me anything!?”

“Pull your knickers out of your ass, Buttercup.” Lambert snarled, putting away his saddle before he turned to walk to the castle, rubbing his frigid hands together and shivering like a puppy in the rain. 

“Ignore him.” Eskel sighed. “Cold makes him a little more snappy than usual.”

“Hmm.” Geralt agreed, leaving Roach’s stall and taking Jaskier by the hand. “The elders of the other schools come here once every few years to hold council.” He finally answered the bard’s question, pulling Jaskier along with him as he followed Eskel from the stables. “I’m sure they’ll all be leaving soon. There were only two horses left that I didn’t recognize.”

Jaskier’s peeked interest quickly turned to a disappointed frown. “Oh. What a shame.” He lamented. “I would have loved to meet them all.”

Eskel chuckled, pulling open the doors to the keep and letting Jaskier and Geralt go in ahead of him. “You’re bravery never ceases to amaze me, Jaskier.” He told his brother’s mate.

“Don’t encourage him.” Geralt muttered under his breath, stepping over the threshold and wincing when the scents of unfamiliar witchers hit him full force.

“The whole place stinks of old geezers!” Lambert complained loudly, quite obviously wanting to be heard. 

Not a full minute later, Vesemir came from the dining hall, catching Lambert off guard while the younger was pulling off his boots. He grabbed him by the ear and Lambert squeaked. He actually squeaked.

“Do NOT try my patience, pup.” The old wolf warned his son. “Not today. We have company. Understood?” He gave Lambert a warning look and waited until the prickly Witcher grumbled a surrendered “fine” through grinding fangs.

“Good.” Vesemir released Lambert’s ear and instead pulled him into a hug. “Now lets not fight.” He pleaded. “I’ve missed you.”

Lambert huffed irritably and rolled his eyes, though he didn’t resist the embrace.

Jaskier looked adoringly at them both and Lambert promptly stuck out his middle finger at the bard without another word.

...

“Are you sure you won’t stay the Winter, Gerd?” Vesemir asked the mighty old bear who sat at his left hand. 

The Witcher was massive, even for his kind, and Jaskier suddenly felt like an ant just sharing the room with such a behemoth. 

“Thank ye kindly!” The grizzled giant spoke through a mouthful of salted pork. “But I’d best be gettin’ back to the isles before the sea ice strangles the docks.”

“Of course.” An elder cat grinned from Vesemir’s right. “I’d imagine even the thickest of frozen ground couldn’t hold your weight, old friend.”

Eskel and Geralt exchanged a nervous look and even Lambert got quiet before the big bear let out a dangerously deep laugh that nearly shook the walls.

“Always the joker, this one!” Gerd slammed a fist against the table with great amusement, nodding to the grey haired cat across the table. “I’ll be missin’ that wicked wit a’ yer’s, Guxart!”

The young wolves all seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at once.

Gerd finished what was left of his meal and then stood from the table, clapping Vesemir on the shoulder. “Always a pleasure, Wolf.” He gave his fellow elder a friendly smile. “I thank ye again fer yer hospitality. Health and fortune to ye...and to you as well, wolflings.” 

Lambert groaned at the nick name and Vesemir gave him a warning glance from the head of the table.

“Safe travels, Gerd!” He called to the bear before the old giant left the keep. 

“At least he didn’t pat us all on the fucking head this time.” Lambert growled once the front doors had closed.

“Hush.” Vesemir’s tone was firm but not harsh, the cat at his side chuckling at the youngest Wolf’s complaints.

“This one is Aiden’s?” He inquired of the old wolf, giving Lambert a challenging smirk when the young witcher stared him down, fire in his eyes.

“Absolutely not.” Vesemir muttered in reply. The cat continued to laugh softly.

“Staying the Winter with us, Guxart?” Eskel inquired. He seemed to be comfortable with the old cat’s presence, which was odd, but so long as his wolves felt safe and relaxed in their home still, Jaskier wasn’t about to complain.

“I’m afraid not.” The cat elder sighed, as if he truly was regretful of leaving them. “I will stay for three days more. Then I must rejoin the caravan.” His eyes fell to Jaskier and he raised a curious brow. “You are the bard?” Guxart inquired. “Jaskier? Is that it?”

Geralt’s hand moved beneath the table, resting upon his mate’s knee and squeezing possessively.

“Yes, that would be me.” His human replied anyway, not at all intimidated by the old cat and his mischievous eyes of green fire. Geralt grunted a warning when Jaskier offered his hand to the elder witcher but the bard ignored him. Vesemir didn’t seem worried by Guxart and neither did Eskel. He couldn’t have been too terribly dangerous. 

“It is an honor to meet such an esteemed member of your school, sir.” Jaskier smiled kindly to the cat as his outstretched hand was grasped and shaken gently. “I’ve only been introduced to Aiden thus far.”

“My deepest apologies.” Guxart hummed with an amused smirk when Lambert snarled at him.

“Lambert...” Vesemir’s eyes rose to his youngest pup. “Behave.”

The growling wolf sunk back into his seat, still grinding his teeth together in anger but remaining quiet through the rest of the meal.

“Forgive my son.” Vesemir said to the elder cat. “He’s had a long journey home.” 

There was a look passed between the two aging witchers that Jaskier just happened to catch, because he was NOT eavesdropping! 

There was something familiar there but he couldn’t quite place it...until the cat placed a hand casually over Vesemir’s while all of the young wolves were busy snatching each other’s food and bickering.

“Nothing to forgive.” Guxart smiled adoringly at the alpha wolf, who blushed!

Oh. OH.

Jaskier bit his lip, stifling the elated noises that he wanted so badly to let go.

Vesemir was in love!


	2. The Strength Of The Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guxart has a talk with Jaskier while watching the wolves.

Jaskier busied himself in the kitchens, dividing his attention between the tea kettle that sat upon the hot stove and the dishes from their dinner that still remained unwashed in the enchanted basin.

His wolves were resting comfortably in the main hall common area, warmed by the fire of the hearth and eager to tell Vesemir some stories from the path.

He could hear Eskel, even without a Witcher’s ears, excitedly recounting his season’s proudest tale to the elder wolf. Something involving a traveling family from Novigrad and a fiend that had ambushed them on the trail. 

“Managed to get them all to safety and didn’t even need to send for a healer!” The eldest of Vesemir’s pups declared at the end of his story. “Don’t know how none of them had more than a few scratches and bumps. Guess luck decided to spare them that day.”

“Luck decided to send them a proper Witcher.” The old alpha wolf replied, and Jaskier smiled. He could imagine the happy smile spreading over Eskel’s face at the praise. He always had the look of a sweet puppy wagging its tail when his father looked upon him with pride.

“Darlings...” Jaskier hummed adoringly to himself.

“They are an endearing sight, I must admit.” 

The bard flinched, startled, and turned quickly on his heel to face the intruder who had managed to sneak in without his knowledge.

An old, green eyed cat greeted him with a nod from where he lounged against the door frame to the dining hall. His ears were perked, also listening to the wolves nearby.

“Sorry to disturb you.” He apologized sincerely. “I did not wish to intrude upon them.”

Jaskier breathed a sigh of relief. “No matter, Guxart.” He assured the cat elder, crossing the room when his kettle began to whistle. “I was only surprised...Would you like some tea? It’s valerian root. Does wonders for a good night’s sleep.”

The cat held up a hand, politely declining. “Save it for the young ones.” He insisted. “And for Vesemir.”

“Oh don’t be silly!” Jaskier scolded the old feline lightly, placing three cups down on a tray and setting a fourth aside for their guest. “There’s plenty to go around, my friend! Here, have one cup at least.” The bard poured the steaming drink into the empty fourth cup and offered it up to Guxart.

The cat gave a soft smirk and accepted the generous gift. “I thank you, dear boy.” He hummed, holding the hot beverage between two strong, weathered hands. 

“Oh it’s no trouble.” Jaskier promised, picking up the tray of tea cups to bring to his wolf pack. “Anyone who brings dear Vesemir a bit of happiness is more than welcome to my brews...” He left the kitchens at that, not allowing Guxart the chance to deny anything as he hurried off to the pack.

Geralt was talking now, telling Vesemir of their run in with a rogue sorcerer in Vizima that Summer as he and Eskel lounged on the smaller couch before the fire together.

Their father nodded along at the story, listening intently and humming every time he made a mental note to comment on any of Geralt’s techniques that had been used to subdue the wicked mage.

Lambert was already sleeping, sprawled out across the largest couch nearest to the old Wolf’s armchair. His head laid upon a pillow near Vesemir’s arm rest and the elder witcher was gently combing his fingers through his youngest pup’s hair.

He’d given Lambert his special sleeping potion earlier, hoping for a peaceful first night home for his boy, and the young wolf had fallen to slumber quickly after, still purring softly at his father’s affectionate touch.

Jaskier smiled and handed out a cup of the valerian root tea to each Witcher that was still awake. “Don’t mind me.” He whispered in apology for interrupting Geralt’s story, collecting Lambert’s empty mug on his way back to the kitchens.

He took another look at the wolves as he walked away, his heart full as he took in the precious family scene once more.

Guxart’s eyes followed the bard over the brim of his cup as soon as he’d entered the kitchens again. 

“Indulge my curiosity, young one.” He spoke softly after swallowing down a mouthful of the warm, relaxing brew. “How long have you known? About Vesemir and I?”

Jaskier turned to look over his shoulder as he picked up a dish cloth to finish the plates and mugs left in the self filling water basin. “Since we arrived two days ago.” He answered the cat with a kind, reassuring smile.

“And you are...pleased by this?” Guxart inquired.

“Absolutely!” Jaskier answered with the utmost enthusiasm. “So long as you’re treating him right that is. The poor dear deserves the world and more for all that he does.”

Guxart hummed and nodded his head slowly. “We can agree upon that.” He sighed. “I fear...that his sons will not accept our love...I do not wish to come between them.”

Jaskier was quiet but only for a bit, gathering his thoughts and deciding what the best advise to offer the old cat would be.

“I understand your worry.” He replied after a few moments. “Vesemir loves his sons more than life. There’s no secret there, and if I’m being entirely honest you’ll always be coming in second to the three of them...but I do know for certain that they will all want Vesemir to be happy. Perhaps they will be a bit shocked at first, but after a time, they’ll see that you make him smile. That will be enough to convince them of your worth.”

Guxart hummed and sipped at his tea. “You are wise for one so young, Jaskier.” He told the bard. 

“Why thank you, dear cat!” Jaskier sent a cheerful smile to the feline over his shoulder. “You know, it’s quite nice to have someone around this keep who appreciates my expertise in matters of the heart.”

The cat chuckled, still listening from afar to the pack of chattering wolves. He longed to join them but thought it better to keep his distance for now.

Vesemir would speak to his sons first, explain to them his intentions to become a part of their pack. Then, if fortune felt kind, Guxart would be allowed to sit amongst his newfound family.


	3. Usual Hardships & Newfound Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vesemir’s pups know exactly what is happening. He doesn’t need to say anything to them.
> 
> Lambert isn’t coping with this news very well.

“Vesemir! NO! Vesemir!”

Geralt and Jaskier were woken by the cries, Geralt sitting up on high alert and shoving the covers away from his body.

“Geralt?” Jaskier yawned and moved to climb from their bed as well.

“Don’t.” The White Wolf stopped his mate. “Go back to sleep.” He pulled on a pair of smalls and stepped out into the hallway, nearly running into his Father who had been rushing up the stairs.

“Vesemir!” Lambert screamed for his father again.

Eskel had come to his door by now as well but the old wolf waved them away. “Go back to bed, both of you.” He told his sons. “I’ll handle it. He’s alright.”

Vesemir took the old rusted master key from the pocket of his robe and quickly unlocked Lambert’s door to get inside, shutting it back behind him.

Lambert was sitting up by then, woken by the nightmare and shaking like a leaf beneath his blankets. His eyes jumped directly to his father when the door creaked open and Vesemir sighed as he sat his candle aside and slowly approached his youngest son.

“Just a dream...” Lambert breathed, though it sounded more like a question than a true statement.

“Just a dream.” Vesemir confirmed, sitting down carefully on the edge of Lambert’s bed. He reached out, offering a comforting embrace and Lambert leaned in to accept the closeness. “Shh.” Vesemir whispered him softly, holding his pup close and rubbing his back. “You’re alright, son. I’m here.”

Lambert choked back a sob, hiding his face away in Vesemir’s shoulder. 

“Shh, my boy. I’ve got you. Take some deep breaths. That’s a good lad...Anything you wanna talk about?”

The old wolf waited until Lambert shook his head and groaned miserably.

“That’s alright.” He assured his distressed pup. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

Lambert was still fighting a fit of tears. “Just let me ask you some stuff?” He pleaded.

“Of course.” Vesemir nodded, still rubbing and patting his boy’s back as if he were a tiny wolfling again. “Anything you need to clear up. Go ahead and ask.”

Lambert waited awhile before speaking again, lip quivering and eyes stinging as he fought to find his words.

“We’re home?” He finally asked Vesemir. “Me and Geralt and Eskel and Buttercup? We came home yesterday, right?”

“That’s right.” Vesemir confirmed.

“And...I fell asleep on the couch last night?” Lambert sniffled.

“You did.” His father nodded. “I carried you up to your room. See? There’s your wall with the daggers hanging up on the shelves, right over there by the fire.”

Lambert looked and observed the wall, slowly nodding and letting out a shaky sigh.

“Are you alright, Pop?” He asked then, voice cracking when his battle with the tears was finally lost. “You’re not hurt?”

Vesemir hugged Lambert closer as his pup began to sob. “I’m right as rain, my boy.” He promised. “Not a scratch on me.”

Lambert squeezed him tighter as well, crying against his father’s shoulder then nuzzling against his neck to breathe in his familiar, calming scent. The sobs kept coming and Vesemir brought one hand up to stroke Lambert’s hair.

“I’m right here, pup. It’s alright.” He tried to console the young witcher. “Just a bad dream again, alright? It wasn’t real. Not at all. We’re all safe and sound. Safe and sound at home.”

Lambert’s trembling began to slowly lessen as he snuggled into the elder Wolf’s arms, not giving any complaint even as his forehead was lightly kissed.

“You want me to stay awhile?” Vesemir asked, and his son nodded wordlessly. “Alright. I’m not going anywhere. You just try to relax.”

Lambert nodded again, clinging tightly to his father. 

The next morning the old wolf woke at the break of dawn upon the usually vacant side of Lambert’s bed, his youngest son lying next to him and finally sleeping without fear.

Vesemir sighed, grieved and worried for his pup.

He staid with Lambert a bit longer, wanting to be there when the young wolf awoke. If he was gone when Lambert’s eyes opened, Vesemir feared that he might begin to panic again.

...

“Your son?” Guxart inquired while Vesemir was moving about his study, collecting a few extra potions for his lover to take with him down the mountain.

“He’s alright now.” The wolf sighed. “Just a bad nightmare...I know I abandoned you last night, dear, but Lambert needed me.”

“I understand.” The old cat promised. “I hope that this incident had nothing to do with my being here in your home.”

Vesemir couldn’t answer that for certain. Lambert did tend to get terribly nervous around unannounced guests and strangers. It was a possibility.

“Does he know?” Guxart asked. “About you and I?”

Vesemir frowned, placing vials carefully into the cat Witcher’s bags. “I’m sure he suspects something.” He told Guxart. “He can certainly smell you on me. I’m not sure what he’s conjured up in his mind about that but I’ll speak to him first, as soon as you’ve gone.”

The cat hummed and moved to nuzzle against his lover’s face. “You’re certain that you don’t want my help explaining things to them all?” He asked for what had to have been the tenth time at least. “Your pups might think me cowardly for leaving you alone to confess...that would make me unworthy in their eyes, I know it.”

“I know my sons.” Vesemir insisted, blushing when Guxart began to place soft kisses against his neck and cheek. “They’ll take this news better if it comes from me...You’ll write to me when you find your caravan again, won’t you, dear? You won’t forget?”

“I’ll not forget.” Guxart smirked, placing one last kiss against the old Wolf’s lips. “And you must remember to write to me, my wolf. Relay to me my fate. If I am to return to your keep or...”

“You will be returning.” Vesemir insisted. “I told you already, the pups will understand...The worst case will be that it’ll just take a bit of time before we move things forward, but they’ll come around to the idea. I know they will.”

“Hmm...” Guxart pulled Vesemir into his arms and kissed him again. “Walk me to my horse?” He pleaded after pulling away again. “I don’t want to say goodbye just yet.”

“Neither do I.” Vesemir sighed. “Come on...You need to make it down the trail before the snows close off the mountain pass.”

...

“Is the cat gone yet?” Lambert growled over his breakfast. 

Eskel shrugged and Geralt hummed, setting his empty bowl aside. “He and Vesemir went out to the stables.” The White Wolf informed his brother. “Why?”

“Need to send a message to Aiden?” Eskel asked. It wasn’t a jest. He was worried about Lambert after the night before. Something still seemed to be troubling the youngest wolf too, and that put the larger Witcher even more on edge.

“No.” Lambert muttered. “Just think he’s overstayed his welcome...Don’t tell me you two can’t smell that bastard’s filthy musk all through the lower halls...all over Vesemir too.”

Jaskier said nothing as he nervously ate his porridge. It wasn’t his place to confess Vesemir’s private affairs.

“Lamb, the old man can take care of himself.” Eskel tried his best at consoling his little brother. “Yeah, I get what they’ve been up to, but it’s none of our business.”

“Hmm.” Geralt agreed. “Vesemir’s always alone here. A bit of companionship every now and again probably keeps him sane.”

“Well I don’t trust that fucking cat!” Lambert growled.

“Why?” Eskel raised a brow. “Vesemir and Guxart have been friends for years. The old cat’s a good guy.”

“Shut the fuck up, Eskel!” Lambert demanded, standing rather violently from the table and storming away from the others. “You don’t know anything about that fucking prick!”


End file.
